O wikke Fame! …
Eek, thogh I mighte duren ever,
354
That I have doon, rekever I never …
And that I shal thus juged be—
"Lo, right as she hath doon, now she
359
Wol do eftsones, hardily."'
If the reader will now turn to p. 54, l. 45, and continue down to l. 81 on the next page, he will find the whole of this passage turned into prose, with numerous cunning alterations and a few insertions, yet including all such words as are printed above in italics! That is, he will find all except the proverb in ll. 290, 291; but this also is not far off; for it occurs over the leaf, on p. 56, at l. 115, and again at p. 22, ll. 44–45! Surely, this is nothing but book-making, and the art of it does not seem to be difficult.
§ 13. The author expressly acknowledges his admiration of Troilus (p. 140, l. 292); and it is easy to see his indebtedness to that poem. He copies Chaucer's curious mistake as to Styx being a pit (p. 3, l. 80, and the note). He adopts the words let-game (p. 18, l. 124) and wiver (p. 129, l. 27). He quotes a whole line from Troilus at p. 27, l. 78 (see note); and spoils another one at p. 34, ch. viii. l. 5, a third at p. 80, l. 116, and a fourth at p. 128, ch. vii. l. 2. We can see whence he took his allusion to 'playing raket,' and to the dock and nettle, at p. 13, ll. 166, 167; and the phrase to 'pype with an yvè-lefe' at p. 134, l. 50.
It is further observable that he had read a later text of Piers Plowman with some care, but he seems to quote it from memory, as at p. 18, l. 153, and p. 24, l. 118. A few other passages in which he seems to have taken ideas from this popular and remarkable poem are pointed out in the Notes. It is probable that he thence adopted the words legistres and skleren; for which see the Glossary, and consult the Notes for the references which are there given.
§ 14. The author is frequently guilty of gross inaccuracies. He seems to confuse Cain with Ham (p. 52, ll. 107, 109), but Cayn, says Mr. Bradley, may be Thynne's misprint for Cam, i.e. Ham. He certainly confuses Perdiccas with Arrhidæus (p. 52, l. 116). He speaks of the eighth year, instead of the seventh, as being a sabbatical year, and actually declares that the ordinary week contains seven working-days (p. 24, ll. 102–104)! He tells us that Sunday begins 'at the first hour after noon (!) on Saturday' (p. 82, l. 163). Hence it is not to be wondered at that some of his arguments and illustrations are quite unintelligible.
§ 15. The title of the work, viz. The Testament of Love, readily reminds us of the passage in Gower already quoted in vol. iii. p. xliii., in which the goddess Venus proposes that Chaucer should write 'his testament of love,' in order 'to sette an ende of alle his werke.' I have already explained that the real reference in this passage is to the Legend of Good Women; but I am not prepared, at present, to discuss the connection between the expression in Gower and the treatise by Usk. The fact that our author adopted the above title may have led to the notion that Chaucer wrote the treatise here discussed; but it is quite clear that he had nothing to do with it.
Professor Morley well says that 'the writer of this piece uses the word Testament in the old Scriptural sense of a witnessing, and means by Love the Divine Love, the Christian spirit encouraging and directing the wish for the grace of God, called Margaret, the pearl beyond all price.' To which, however, it is highly essential to add that Margaret is not used in the sense of 'grace' alone, but is also employed, in several passages, to signify 'the visible Church of Christ.' The author is, in fact, careful to warn us of the varying, the almost Protean sense of the word at p. 145, where he tells us that 'Margarite, a woman [i.e. properly a woman's name], betokeneth grace, lerning, or wisdom of god, or els holy church.' His object seems to have been to extend the meaning of the word so as to give him greater scope for ingenuity in varying his modes of reference to it. He has certainly succeeded in adding to the obscurity of his subject. That by 'holy church' he meant the visible Church of Christ of his own time, appears from the remarkable assertion that it is 'deedly,' i.e. mortal (p. 94, l. 121). Such an epithet is inapplicable to the Church in its spiritual character. It may also be observed that, however much the sense implied by Margarite may vary, it never takes the meaning which we should most readily assign to it; i.e. it never means a live woman, nor represents even an imaginary object of natural human affection. The nearest approach to such an ideal is at p. 94, l. 114, where we are told that the jewel which he hopes to attain is as precious a pearl as a woman is by nature.
§ 16. It hardly seems worth while to give a detailed analysis of the whole piece. An analysis of the First Book (which is, on the whole, the best) is given by Professor Morley; and the hints which I have already given as to the character and situation of the author will enable the reader to regard the treatise from a right point of view. But it is proper to observe that the author himself tells us how he came to divide the work into three books[10], and what are the ideas on which each book is founded. Each of the three books has an introductory chapter. That to the First Book I have called a Prologue; and perhaps it would have been strictly correct to have called the first chapters of the other books by the same name. In the introductory chapter to the Third Book, p. 101, he declares that the First Book is descriptive of Error, or Deviation (which the editions print as Demacion!); the Second, of Grace; and the Third, of Joy. In other words, the First Book is particularly devoted to recounting the errors of his youth, especially how he was led by others into a conspiracy against the state and into deviation from orthodoxy. In the Prologue, he excuses himself for writing in English, and announces the title of the work. He then assures us that he is merely going to gather up the crumbs that have fallen from the table, and to glean handfuls of corn which Boethius has dropped. 'A sly servant in his own help is often much commended'; and this being understood, he proceeds to help himself accordingly, as has already been explained.
§ 17. Book I: Ch. I. In Chapter I, he describes his misery, and hopes that the dice will turn, and implores the help of Margaret, here used (apparently) to typify the grace of God. He represents himself as being in prison, in imitation of Boethius; but I suspect that, in the present passage, the prison was metaphorical. (He had been imprisoned in 1384, and in 1387 was imprisoned again; but that is another matter.)
Ch. II. Heavenly Love suddenly appears to him, as Philosophy appeared to Boethius, and is ready to console and reclaim him. She is aware of his losses, and he tries to vindicate his constancy of character.
Ch. III. He describes how he once wandered through the woods at the close of autumn, and was attacked by some animals who had suddenly turned wild. To save himself, he embarks on board a ship; but the reader is disappointed to find that the adventure is wholly unreal; the ship is the ship of Travail, peopled by Sight, Lust, Thought, and Will. He is driven on an island, where he catches a glimpse of Love, and finds a Margaret, a pearl of price. He appeals to Love to comfort him.
